Chapter 2

The generation which fought the Revolution, framed and adopted the Constitution, and established the United States were impressed with the most profound veneration, the most devoted affection, the most absolute idolatry for the hero, sage, statesman. In the reaction that came in the next generation against "the old soldiers," who for thirty years had assumed all the honors and enjoyed all the fruits of the victory that they had won, accelerated by the division in American sentiment for or against the French Revolution, it came to be felt, as the younger generation always will feel, that the achievements of the veterans had been greatly overrated and their demigod enormously exaggerated. They thought, as English Harry did at Agincourt, that "Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot, but they'll remember with advantages what feats they did that day."

The fierce attacks of the Jeffersonian Democracy on Washington, his principles, his life, and his habits, exercised a potent influence in diminishing the general respect for his abilities felt by the preceding generation; and Washington came to be regarded as a worthy, honest, well-meaning gentleman, but with no capacity for military and only mediocre ability in civil affairs. This estimate continued from the beginning of Jefferson's administration to the first of Grant's. Neither Marshall nor Irving did much during that period to place him in a proper historical light....

But in the last twenty-five years there has been a steady drift toward giving Washington his proper place in history and his appropriate appreciation as soldier and statesman. The general who never won a battle is now understood to have been the Revolution itself, and one of the great generals of history. The statesman who never made a motion, nor devised a measure, nor constructed a proposition in the convention of which he was president, is appreciated as the spirit, the energy, the force, the wisdom which initiated, organized, and directed the formation of the Constitution of the United States and the Union by, through, and under it; and therefore it seems now possible to present him as the Virginian soldier, gentleman, and planter, as a man, the evolution of the society of which he formed a part, representative of his epoch, and his surroundings, developed by circumstances into the greatest character of all time--the first and most illustrious of Americans.

Henry Cabot Lodge,[5] writing in 1899, was one of the first to discover "the new Washington." "The real man," he wrote, "has been so overlaid with myths and traditions, and so distorted by misleading criticisms, that ... he has been wellnigh lost. We have the religious and statuesque myth, we have the Weems myth (which turns Washington into a faultless prig), and the ludicrous myth of the writer of paragraphs. We have the stately hero of Sparks, and Everett, and Marshall, and Irving, with all his great deeds as general and President duly recorded and set down in polished and eloquent sentences; and we know him to be very great and wise and pure, and, be it said with bated breath, very dry and cold.... In death as in life, there is something about Washington, call it greatness, dignity, majesty, what you will, which seems to hold men aloof and keep them from knowing him. In truth he was a difficult man to know....

"Behind the popular myths, behind the statuesque figure of the orator and the preacher, behind the general and the President of the historian, there was a strong, vigorous man, in whose veins ran warm, red blood, in whose heart were stormy passions and deep sympathy for humanity, in whose brain were far-reaching thoughts, and who was informed throughout his being with a resistless will."

It is a shameful thing that there should ever have been any doubt in American minds of the true significance of Washington either as man or soldier or statesman. But the writers of our day have decided that--if they can help it--the sins of the fathers are not going to be visited upon "the third and fourth generation." The call has gone out for modern champions of our ancient champion; and literature has responded with a will.

It takes long, however, to straighten out a national misconception. The new literature has not yet had time to take hold of the popular imagination. But when it does, and when we cease to regard the Father of our Country as a demigod, and begin to love him as a man, then Washington's Birthdays everywhere will lose their stiff, perfunctory, bloodless character, and recover the inspiring, emotional quality of the early celebrations.

R.H.S.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] In "The True History of the American Revolution" and "The Struggle for American Independence."

[2] "The Seven Ages of Washington."

[3] In "Curiosities of Popular Customs."

[4] "General Washington."

[5] Introduction to "George Washington."

I

THE DAY

WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY[6]

BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES

Welcome to the day returning, Dearer still as ages flow, While the torch of Faith is burning, Long as Freedom's altars glow! See the hero whom it gave us Slumbering on a mother's breast; For the arm he stretched to save us Be its morn forever blest!

Vain is empire's mad temptation! Not for him an earthly crown! He whose sword has freed a nation Strikes the offered scepter down. See the throneless conqueror seated, Ruler by a people's choice; See the patriot's task completed; Hear the Father's dying voice:

"By the name that you inherit, By the sufferings you recall, Cherish the fraternal spirit; Love your country first of all! Listen not to idle questions If its bands may be untied; Doubt the patriot whose suggestions Strive a nation to divide."

Father! we, whose ears have tingled With the discord notes of shame; We, whose sires their blood have mingled In the battle's thunder-flame,-- Gathering, while this holy morning Lights the land from sea to sea, Hear thy counsel, heed thy warning; Trust us while we honor thee.

FOOTNOTES:

[6] _By permission of the publishers, Houghton, Mifflin & Co_.

* * * * *

WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY

BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER

'Tis splendid to live so grandly That long after you are gone, The things you did are remembered, And recounted under the sun; To live so bravely and purely, That a nation stops on its way, And once a year, with banner and drum, Keeps its thought of your natal day.

'Tis splendid to have a record, So white and free from stain That, held to the light, it shows no blot, Though tested and tried amain; That age to age forever Repeats its story of love, And your birthday lives in a nation's heart, All other days above.

And this is Washington's glory, A steadfast soul and true, Who stood for his country's honor When his country's days were few. And now when its days are many, And its flag of stars is flung To the breeze in defiant challenge, His name is on every tongue.

Yes, it's splendid to live so bravely, To be so great and strong, That your memory is ever a tocsin To rally the foes of the wrong; To live so proudly and purely That your people pause in their way, And year by year, with banner and drum, Keep the thought of your natal day.

* * * * *

THE BIRTHDAY OF WASHINGTON

ANONYMOUS

The birthday of the "Father of his Country!" May it ever be freshly remembered by American hearts! May it ever reawaken in them a filial veneration for his memory; ever rekindle the fires of patriotic regard for the country which he loved so well, to which he gave his youthful vigor and his youthful energy; to which he devoted his life in the maturity of his powers, in the field; to which again he offered the counsels of his wisdom and his experience as president of the convention that framed our Constitution; which he guided and directed while in the chair of state, and for which the last prayer of his earthly supplication was offered up, when it came the moment for him so well, and so grandly, and so calmly, to die. He was the first man of the time in which he grew. His memory is first and most sacred in our love, and ever hereafter, till the last drop of blood shall freeze in the last American heart, his name shall be a spell of power and of might.

Yes, gentlemen, there is one personal, one vast felicity, which no man can share with him. It was the daily beauty and towering and matchless glory of his life which enabled him to create his country, and at the same time secure an undying love and regard from the whole American people. "The first in the hearts of his countrymen!" Yes, first! He has our first and most fervent love. Undoubtedly there were brave and wise and good men before his day, in every colony. But the American nation, as a nation, I do not reckon to have begun before 1774, and the first love of that young America was Washington. The first word she lisped was his name. Her earliest breath spoke it. It still is her proud ejaculation; and it will be the last gasp of her expiring life! Yes; others of our great men have been appreciated--many admired by all--but him we love; him we all love. About and around him we call up no dissentient, discordant, and dissatisfied elements--no sectional prejudice nor bias--no party, no creed, no dogma of politics. None of these shall assail him. Yes; when the storm of battle blows darkest and rages highest, the memory of Washington shall nerve every American arm and cheer every American heart. It shall relume that Promethean fire, that sublime flame of patriotism, that devoted love of country, which his words have commended, which his example has consecrated.

* * * * *

WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY

BY GEORGE HOWLAND

Welcome, thou festal morn! Never be passed in scorn Thy rising sun, Thou day forever bright With Freedom's holy light, That gave the world the sight Of Washington.

Unshaken 'mid the storm, Behold that noble form-- That peerless one-- With his protecting hand, Like Freedom's angel stand The guardian of our land, Our Washington.

Then with each coming year, Whenever shall appear That natal sun, Will we attest the worth, Of one true man to earth, And celebrate the birth Of Washington.

Traced there in lines of light, Where all pure rays unite, Obscured by none; Brightest on history's page, Of any clime or age, As chieftain, man, and sage, Stands Washington.

Name at which tyrants pale, And their proud legions quail, Their boasting done; While Freedom lifts her head, No longer filled with dread, Her sons to victory led By Washington.

Now the true patriot see, The foremost of the free, The victory won. In Freedom's presence bow, While sweetly smiling now, She wreaths the smiling brow Of Washington.

Then with each coming year, Whenever shall appear That natal sun, Shall we attest the worth Of one true man to earth, And celebrate the birth Of Washington.

* * * * *

WASHINGTON AND OUR SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES

BY CHARLES W. ELIOT

The brief phrase--the schools and colleges of the United States--is a formal and familiar one; but what imagination can grasp the infinitude of human affections, powers, and wills which it really comprises? But let us forget the outward things called schools and colleges, and summon up the human beings. Imagine the eight million children actually in attendance at the elementary schools of the country brought before your view. Each unit in this mass speaks of a glad birth, a brightened home, a mother's pondering heart, a father's careful joy. In all that multitude, every little heart bounds and every eye shines at the name of Washington.

The two hundred and fifty thousand boys and girls in the secondary schools are getting a fuller view of this incomparable character than the younger children can reach. They are old enough to understand his civil as well as his military achievements. They learn of his great part in that immortal Federal convention of 1787, of his inestimable services in organizing and conducting through two Presidential terms the new Government,--services of which he alone was capable,--and of his firm resistance to misguided popular clamor. They see him ultimately victorious in war and successful in peace, but only through much adversity and many obstacles.

Next, picture to yourselves the sixty thousand students in colleges and universities--selected youth of keen intelligence, wide reading, and high ambition. They are able to compare Washington with the greatest men of other times and countries, and to appreciate the unique quality of his renown. They can set him beside the heroes of romance and history--beside David, Alexander, Pericles, Cæsar, Saladin, Charlemagne, Gustavus Adolphus, John Hampden, William the Silent, Peter of Russia, and Frederick the Great, only to find him a nobler human type than any one of them, more complete in his nature, more happy in his cause, and more fortunate in the issues of his career. They are taught to see in him a soldier whose sword wrought only mercy and justice for mankind; a statesman who steadied a remarkable generation of public men by his mental poise and exalted them by his singleness of heart; and a ruler whose exercise of power established for the time on earth a righteous government by all and for all.

And what shall I say on behalf of the three hundred and sixty thousand teachers of the United States? None of them are rich or famous; most of them are poor, retiring, and unnoticed; but it is they who are building a perennial monument to Washington. It is they who give him a million-tongued fame. They make him live again in the young hearts of successive generations, and fix his image there as the American ideal of a public servant. It is through the schools and colleges and the national literature that the heroes of any people win lasting renown; and it is through these same agencies that a nation is molded into the likeness of its heroes.

The commemoration of any one great event in the life of Washington and of the United States is well, but it is nothing compared with the incessant memorial of him which the schools and colleges of the country maintain from generation to generation. What a reward is Washington's! What an influence is his and will be! One mind and will transfused by sympathetic instruction into millions; one life pattern for all public men, teaching what greatness is and what the pathway to undying fame!

* * * * *

CROWN OUR WASHINGTON

BY HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH

Arise! 'tis the day of our Washington's glory; The garlands uplift for our liberties won. Oh sing in your gladness his echoing story, Whose sword swept for freedom the fields of the sun! Not with gold, nor with gems, But with evergreens vernal, And the banners of stars that the continent span, Crown, crown we the chief of the heroes eternal, Who lifted his sword for the birthright of man!

He gave us a nation to make it immortal; He laid down for Freedom the sword that he drew, And his faith leads us on through the uplifting portal Of the glories of peace and our destinies new. Not with gold, nor with gems, But with evergreens vernal, And the flags that the nations of liberty span, Crown, crown him the chief of the heroes eternal, Who laid down his sword for the birthright of man!

Lead, Face of the Future, serene in thy beauty, Till o'er the dead heroes the peace star shall gleam, Till Right shall be Might in the counsels of duty, And the service of man be life's glory supreme. Not with gold, nor with gems, But with evergreens vernal, And the flags that the nations in brotherhood span, Crown, crown we the chief of the heroes eternal, Whose honor was gained by his service to man!

O Spirit of Liberty, sweet are thy numbers! The winds to thy banners their tribute shall bring While rolls the Potomac where Washington slumbers, And his natal day comes with the angels of spring. We follow thy counsels, O hero eternal! To highest achievement thy school leads the van, And, crowning thy brow with the evergreen vernal, We pledge thee our all to the service of man!

* * * * *

WASHINGTON-MONTH[7]

BY WILL CARLETON

February--February-- How your moods and actions vary Or to seek or shun! Now a smile of sunlight lifting, Now in chilly snowflakes drifting; Now with icy shuttles creeping Silver webs are spun. Now, with leaden torrents leaping, Oceanward you run, Now with bells you blithely sing, 'Neath the stars or sun; Now a blade of burdock bring To the suffering one; February--you are very Dear, when all is done: Many blessings rest above you, You one day (and so we love you) Gave us Washington.

FOOTNOTES:

[7] _By permission of the author_.

II

EARLY YEARS

A GLIMPSE OF WASHINGTON'S BIRTHPLACE

BY GRACE B. JOHNSON

From _The Christian Endeavor World_

Seldom visited and almost unknown is the Wakefield Farm in Virginia, the birthplace of our first President. Recent attempts have been made to popularize the place, but there is little to attract the ordinary traveler; and its distance from a city makes excursions impracticable.

Lying on the Potomac River, about seventy miles below the city of Washington, one edge of the estate reaches down a steep, wooded bank to dip into the water, while, stretching back, it rambles on in grassy meadows and old stubble-fields to the corn-lands and orchards of the adjoining plantations. Skirting the land on one side is Pope's Creek, formerly Bridges' Creek, which in Washington's time was used as the main approach to the estate. On this side there is an easy, undulating slope; but this entrance has been abandoned. Only at high tide can small boats enter the creek, and another way had to be adopted. An iron pier nearly two miles away has been built, and is the landing-place for large and small craft.

All is quiet here now. There is only the rustle of the leaves, the drowsy hum of insects, and the interrupted discourse of the preacher-bird in the clump of trees near which stood the first home of Washington, to break the stillness on a summer day. No one lives here. Indeed, no one has lived here since the fire which destroyed the house and negro cabins, in Washington's boyhood. But here the baby life was spent, in the homestead founded by his great-grandfather, John Washington, who came from England in 1657.

Only a heap of broken bits grown over with catnip showed the place of the great brick chimney the first time I visited the farm; and the second time these, too, were gone. Now a plain, graceful shaft, bearing the simple inscription, "Washington's Birthplace," and below, "Erected by the United States, A.D. 1895," marks the place.

From the monument through the trees, can be seen the gleaming river, rippling its way silently to the bay, and over all rests the same brooding sense of peace and quietness which one feels at Mt. Vernon or at Arlington, the city of our nation's dead.

* * * * *

SOMETHING OF GEORGE WASHINGTON'S BOYHOOD

ANONYMOUS

From _The Evangelist_

George Washington was born at a time when savagery had just departed from the country, leaving freshness and vigor behind. The Indian had scarcely left the woods, and the pirate the shore near his home. His grandfather had seen his neighbor lying tomahawked at his door-sill, and his father had helped to chase beyond the mountains the whooping savages that carried the scalps of his friends at their girdle. The year his brother was born, John Maynard's ship had sailed up the James River with the bloody head of Blackbeard hanging to the bowsprit.

He had only one uncle, a brother Lawrence, and a cousin Augustine, all older than he, but the youngest of his older brothers was twelve years of age when George was born, while his cousin Augustine was only four years older, and his cousin Lawrence six years older than himself. When he was seven years old his sister Betty was a little lass of six. Two brothers, Samuel and John, were nearing their fourth and fifth birthdays. Charles, his baby brother, was still in his nurse's arms. Early the shadow of death crossed his boyish path, for his baby sister, Mildred, born soon after he was seven, died before he was nine.

The first playmate Washington had, out of his own immediate family, was another Lawrence Washington, a very distant cousin, who lived at Chotauk on the Potomac, and who, with his brother, Robert Washington, early won Washington's regard, and kept it through life. When Washington made his will he remembered them, writing, "to the acquaintances and friends of my juvenile years, Lawrence Washington and Robert Washington, I give my other two gold-headed canes having my arms engraved on them."

It was at Chotauk, with Lal and Bob Washington, that George Washington first met with traffic between the old world and the new. There was no money used except tobacco notes, which passed among merchants in London and Amsterdam as cash. Foreign ships brought across the ocean goods that the Virginians needed, and the captains sold the goods for these tobacco notes. Much of Washington's time was spent with these boys, and when he grew old he recalled the young eyes of the Chotauk lads, as they, with him, had stood on the river-bank vainly trying to see clearly some object beyond vision, and in memory of the time he wrote in his will, "To each I leave one of my spy-glasses which constituted part of my equipage during the late war."

Of Washington's first school there is no record or tradition other than that gathered by Parson Weems. He says: "The first place of education to which George was ever sent was a little old field school kept by one of his father's tenants, named Hobby, an honest, poor old man, who acted in the double capacity of sexton and schoolmaster. Of his skill as a gravedigger tradition is silent; but for a teacher of youth his qualifications were certainly of the humbler sort, making what is generally called an A, B, C schoolmaster. While at school under Mr. Hobby he used to divide his playmates into parties and armies. One of them was called the French and the other American. A big boy named William Bustle commanded the former; George commanded the latter, and every day with cornstalks for muskets and calabashes [gourds] for drums, the two armies would turn out and march and fight."

* * * * *

WASHINGTON'S TRAINING

BY CHARLES WENTWORTH UPHAM

Among the mountain passes of the Blue Ridge and the Alleghanies, a youth is seen employed in the manly and invigorating occupation of a surveyor, and awakening the admiration of the backwoodsmen and savage chieftains by the strength and endurance of his frame and the resolution and energy of his character. In his stature and conformation he is a noble specimen of a man. In the various exercises of muscular power, on foot, or in the saddle, he excels all competitors. His admirable physical traits are in perfect accordance with the properties of his mind and heart; and over all, crowning all, is a beautiful, and, in one so strong, a strange dignity of manner, and of mien--a calm seriousness, a sublime self-control, which at once compels the veneration, attracts the confidence, and secures the favor of all who behold him. That youth is the Leader whom Heaven is preparing to conduct America through her approaching trial.